Revolution Begins
by Madame Tortilla
Summary: 1944. Tom Riddle is a 7th year Slytherin with only one purpose: Power. But inside he is just a lonely boy desperate for someone to care. Meet Helga Thatch, she is in Riddle's year. She has two choices: either stand up and save him, or die during the act.
1. Helga Thatch

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except Helga Thatch and those I create. And the plot. All the credit goes to JK Rowling. ****_Bless her._**

**_Helga Thatch_**

The sun was slowly starting to rise and the first rays appeared, penetrating through the small attic window of a grand old house in London's suburbs, within the vicinity of Richmond. Said house had been built in a Victorian style, with its common two stories with steep roof pitches and wraparound veranda. On the upper floor and inside a medium sized room, Sun-faded, oft-mended curtains hung over an oak desk covered with books and pieces of parchment. If one looked close enough, one could conclude that those were not ordinary books; they were magic books.

_Real Magic._

It was a serious matter, magic. A little slip and there could be disastrous consequences.

At the back of the room there was a great black and white wardrobe, painted with magnificent runes and hieroglyphs, which were in a vertical line along the wood. It gave a certain strictness to the bedroom.

A large trunk was carelessly placed next to the wardrobe. Clothes and robes were spread on the floor where a fat, grey cat rested quietly.

Suddenly, the cat woke up irritated, its ears capturing some commotion outside. He yawned slightly while he stood and marched towards the windowpane, eager to see who or what was causing this disturbance at such an early hour.

Leaping gracefully on to the wooden desk, the grey animal slipped on the pieces of parchment covering most of the surface and almost fell on the hard floor, but somehow managed to regain balance. Acting as if nothing had happened, the cat turned to the firmly shut window and drew back the curtain with a careful paw.

An owl appeared, carrying a large package weakly, as if it was not going to bear the effort of transporting it anymore.

Revealed the true motive of the bird's displeasure, the cat twisted its whiskers into a smirk but hurried to the bed where a brown haired girl slept holding her pillow tightly.

Soft and lightly, the cat walked to his mistress' face and sat right in front of her, meowing strongly in the vain hope of muffling the insistent window taps the annoying owl produced.

"Go away..." whined the girl lazily, insisting on not opening her eyes.

The cat sighed deeply. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Meowing once more in a stronger voice, the cat finally caught his owner's attention.

She opened her eyes and yawned, annoyed.

"What's this all about?"

Her eyes focused at the fat cat intently, as if nothing was going on and no owl tapped at the window.

Then she became aware of the noise.

_«Bloody Hell!»_

Jumping out of bed, she hurried to the window and quickly opened it, leading the tired owl to her bed where she untied the strings that attached the package to the poor bird's leg.

Fortunately it wasn't too heavy.

Tired, the owl rested its head against the girl's legs.

The cat had a murderous glare.

Nobody noticed the door opening or the old woman wearing a dressing gown appearing from the door step.

Her white hair was loose, yet she had about her an air of severity, that vanished as a small smile came to her lips at the sight of her only granddaughter. Although Bertha Thatch was not a pure-blood supremacist, deep inside she was happy that her beloved Helga had been sorted to Slytherin. It had been a surprise to everyone when eleven year old Helga wrote a letter home announcing she was in Salazar's old House. People expected her to be in Gryffindor, no one dared to imagine that sudden unexpected scenario.

"Good morning, my dear."

Startled, Helga jumped and dropped the package on the floor.

"Gran! I didn't think you would be awake this early. Did the owl wake you up?" She pointed to the bird resting on her leg.

Madam Thatch walked slowly towards her granddaughter's bed, stepping gingerly around the stacks of books strewn around the room.

"Not at all. Your grandfather was snoring too loudly, so I got out of bed and came to check on you."

Madam Thatch sat on the bed and patted the cat's head tenderly.

"What a mess... how are you planning to clean this all up? If I may remind you, the Hogwarts Express leaves today."

Helga's eyes widened.

"Surely you haven't forgotten?" Bertha said, tilting her head as she looked at Helga.

"Ermm, I didn't," Helga said. Madam Thatch raised one eyebrow. "It's possible that it slipped my mind."

A smirk appeared on Madam Thatch's lips. Her granddaughter was an amazing person, but alas, a tad forgetful.

"Just this once, I'll do something about it."

Helga smiled sheepishly and bent to seize the package that had fallen on the floor. Carefully, she opened it and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want one?"

She pointed to the package brought by the owl which was filled with chocolates and treats.

"One flavoured bean, please."

"I'd be careful with those; you know perfectly when they say..."

Madam Thatch cut her short with an impatient gesture. The label was clear enough for the inept reader. Leading one red bean to her mouth, Madam Thatch closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the outburst, while Helga gazed at her faking a petrified look.

"Urgh, pepper." Madam Thatch threw the read bean away. Helga pretended to be throwing up "Remind me not to eat any of those in the next fifty years."

"And to tell aunt Romilda not to send them ever again, especially at 7AM."

Both women chuckled.

"My dear, go and have breakfast while I take care of this mess, you need all of your strength up to get through today's harsh train ride."

_«_Flippin' 'eck!»

Helga nodded, rolling her eyes at the mere thought of having another year in the company of certain Slytherin girls. Helga hoped that last year's events wouldn't recur. One more death would be too much even for her. The panic and terror of the attacks had been unbearable Although they were directed towards Muggle-borns, it had still been a scary situation. However it all came to an end when Perfect Prefect Model-Student Tom Marvolo Riddle caught the supposed aggressor and rid the school of his evil intentions!

_«Bullshit!»_

Helga marched to the kitchen where she would find her father finishing his breakfast.

_He didn't even look at her. _

"Good morning." She said quietly, noticing the lack of reply while she sat right in front of her father. Helga's eyes wandered around the cold room, as she tried to convince herself that indifference was a good way to face the silence.

Helga held out her hand to seize the bread but hesitated half way; it was too close to her father. She then mentally slapped herself for such a foolish thought and proceeded in trying to reach the bread. It was still warm.

"The butter is in the cupboard."

Helga glanced at her father and raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" She asked.

With a flick of his wand, he _accioed_ the newspaper. Helga watched it land on the table.

"Your grandfather has been sleepwalking _again_." He said with a sneer, his eyes never leaving the news.

Helga nodded silently and resumed her previous indifferent demeanour, cursing her father mentally throughout breakfast.

* * *

The train was only half way to Hogwarts...

Left alone and unwanted in an empty compartment, (with the obvious exception of herself and her cat) Helga did not feel in any way happy. Being alone was the least of her worries. Her biggest concern right now was finding something interesting to do during the rest of the trip that didn't demand leaving her seat.

_«Preferably.»_

"I'm sorry..."

The compartment door opened and a small Hufflepuff girl already dressed in her school robes appeared, slightly taken aback by the seventh year Slytherin.

"A-are you Helga Thatch?" the girl asked shyly, not daring to look at Helga directly.

"Yes ... what about it?"

_«Damn, I was a bit too harsh...»_

"Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you" said Helga in a kinder voice. The girl smiled at the sight of a warm smile gracing Helga's lips.

"Professor Slughorn asked me to give you this..."

The girl handed her a roll of parchment that Helga started to unfold, curious to know what her Head of House would want from her at that specific hour.

_«I hope it has nothing to do with that loathsome club of his.»_

Much to her dismay, it had.

_«How convenient...»_

**_Miss Thatch, _**

**_I am most honoured to invite you to join me and some of your classmates today for a little pre-school reunion._**

**_Horace Slughorn_**

**_PS-Lovely Miss Hamilton will lead you to my compartment._**

Sneering in utter annoyance, Helga pointed her wand to the parchment and burned it, ignoring the little girl's gasp.

"Let's go, but first let me change into my school robes."

Hamilton nodded jerkily and closed the compartment door, staying inside. Both of Helga's eyebrows were raised in sudden displeasure and amusement.

"What are you still doing here?"

Gasping and swallowing dryly, the girl widened her eyes, apparently fearful of what Helga could do to her. Of course that Helga was aware of that fact.

"I -I don't know," she gulped.

Helga's eyes narrowed.

"Then while you're trying to figure it out, why don't you wait for me outside? Better out than in!"

The girl opened her mouth to speak but either lost the words or was too scared of Helga, because she turned quickly and left the compartment in a rush.

Helga stared at the door for a couple of seconds, apparently lost in thought.

_«Merlin, I was too mean...»_

Even the cat looked sad.

"Sorry you had to watch that, Lewis."

Helga started to take off her clothes, once the curtains were firmly shut, alone in the compartment again. She tried to do it as fast as she could so that the little girl did not have to wait too long.

Once fully dressed in her school robes, Helga gestured for Lewis to follow her outside. Hamilton was waiting for her.

"Here I am."

The girl glared at the cat then at Helga again. Helga began noticing Hamilton's prominent brown eyes and curly chestnut hair.

"I like your hair."

Hamilton smiled warmly at the compliment.

"Thank you. I'm Emma Hamilton."

Both girls shook hands.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes" replied Helga as she seized Lewis in her arms.

Figures Slughorn's compartment would be at the very end of the train, which ensure the trip a tiresome and boring adventure. A whole bunch of students was out in the train's corridors playing catch, casting spells, gossiping, yelling or just merely chatting. Either way it was incredibly annoying having to put up with all that lot.

Finally, _("Thank you Merlin!")_ the girls arrived at an almost deserted part of the train. Voices and laughter could be heard from one of those compartments, making Helga's blood boil all of a sudden, as shivers ran through her spine.

_"Can't turn back now. Three seconds for the boredom impact..."_

_"Three."_

Emma turned the knob, her eyes glowing at the sound of such amusement.

"_Two."_

Emma pulled the door aside, and in entering the compartment made all the laughter and conversation cease.

Helga suddenly remembered _she was never that good at making small talk._

_"One."_

Helga entered slowly, as if it was all a dream.

That was when she tripped and fell, face down.

All eyes were on her.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you had a good reading._


	2. Uncomfortable

_**Uncomfortable**_

* * *

A bloody nose is never a good sign. It does not mean that something nice happened, not even remotely. But it does mean pain, torture and sometimes humiliation. If you add a bruised knee, tomato-coloured cheeks and said nose also looking rather broken, then yes. You better start praying someone shouts _"Look! A buffalo!"_ so you can run away from whichever accident just happened while other people's attention is focused on the animal (or in a very cunning plan to escape it).

The victim can either leave or get trampled by the buffalo.

In Helga's case no one was generous enough to offer any kind of distraction. Not even stretch out a helpful hand. Obviously everyone was still recovering from the shock of her fall, some quicker than others, but that still didn't stop Orion Black from giving a snort laugh. Or prevent Abraxas Malfoy from almost having an evil laugh attack. The rest of the lot were either still bewildered or... well, just observing. Actually, Nott and Lestrange were very interested in trying to look under Helga's skirt, but an angry glare from Damocles Belby made them look away. Getting in trouble right under Slughorn's nose was not a good idea, especially because of a Ravenclaw.

Apart from Emma, the only two girls present chuckled in a conniving manner to each other. Tom Riddle raised both eyebrows in clear amusement; a small smirk was forming on his lips as his dark eyes ran over the fallen girl's back. Slughorn's lips parted a bit, the ghost of a rather despicable surprise still present on his chubby features.

Now, since time and space_ are_ adjustable, no matter what those who claim themselves experts on the matter may say, the previous situation lasted 3.5 seconds, fortunately for Helga.

Belby, who was on the verge of his seat, quickly reached for Helga and helped her stand as pain ran through her limbs, though crying was not an option. Besides, the last time she cried Lucretia had cursed her in the hallway, but surprisingly Belby had been there to help her out. Let's just say that the memories of her second year were not the best ones at all.

At that moment she did have a bruised knee and a broken nose. Her face was redder than a tomato and blood was slowly pouring from her nostrils. No wonder- at least ten people were glaring at her, including five of her fellow housemates and her Head of House. The rest were surely going to gossip over it for a long while. Even her cat would be smirking if it was a human, of course. Surely everyone would...

_«I don't remember being this optimistic...»_

She suddenly acknowledged her actions and realised that she was standing with her eyes locked on the floor, a hand covering the bloody nose, and that the Belby boy was still holding her hand in a desperate attempt to have Helga make eye contact with him. Not that he was very lucky with it.

"Thatch? You're bleeding!" called an extremely concerned Belby whose eyes had a pitiful desperation waiting to be noticed, but Helga did not look up. "Helga, what are you looking at?"

"You're stepping on my_ foot_, Belby." The boy apologized as a slight flush appeared on his pale face, uncomfortable at her sudden nasty reply. He did not appreciate the way she talked back to him after he had done his best to help her out. _Again_. _«Damn Slytherins...»_ he thought sadly. "Sorry..." muttered Belby, again backing away a little.

Slughorn did notice all of Damocles' moves and attempts with the Thatch girl _«Oh, what good news to tell his father!»_ the man smiled amusedly at his own thoughts. However, saying nothing was a gesture that wrecked most events and as a good host he did need to do _something_.

"Miss Thatch, are you quite all right? Oh, thank you, Damocles." Belby handed Slughorn his wand and the man marched to where Helga stood, harmed.

"I apologize. You see that carpet? Yes, I forgot to mend it. You must not have seen the hole."

_«You sad, miserable, pathetic...»_

Helga raised both eyebrows "Hmm." Slughorn non-verbally healed her knee with a flick of his wand.

"Miss Thatch? Your nose."

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Helga withdrew the hand that carefully covered her nose. Even though the blood had stopped pouring a while ago, it had lingered on her face, which was an invitation for one of the two giggling girls to eye her in disgust. Belby had returned to his seat and Emma gave quick glances at Tom Riddle, who seemed to be highly bored with the situation.

Healed but still utterly embarrassed, Helga turned on her heel to the only seat available between Malfoy and Nott, who sneered at her disdainfully. Emma sat next to the giggling girls and Slughorn had taken his seat next to Riddle. Still glaring at her, Helga felt her cheeks flush once again.

Slughorn cleared his throat "Well, after this... unfortunate accident let us go back to our previous matters. But first, please welcome Miss Thatch, one of the best students in Ancient Runes that Hogwarts has seen for a long time!"

Helga smiled sheepishly, feeling embarrassed and completely uncomfortable with all the unwanted attention. Riddle glanced at her blankly, tilting his head a bit as he considered her for a while.

"But my dear, it was extremely difficult to find you. Nobody seemed to know where you were. I was about to send a raiding party!" he laughed, followed by his _talented_ students.

_«When will this madness end? »_ she thought, desperate.

"I was finishing a book," she lied. Helga had finished her books long ago.

"A book about runes, I suppose?" winked the Potions Master.

"Yes, in fact I bought it yesterday. It was written by Bernard Durat. This one, _Deeper into the Pyramids_, tells not only how to uncover the various hieroglyphs, but also about every single curse ever found inside a tomb and such."

Another roaring laughter came from the great walrus.

"Dear old Berny? My dear, I have heard much about my former student's career." Slughorn's smile vanished.

"However I have also heard he became quite delusional and loony over the times" Malfoy's smirk widened substantially, as he was pleased to watch Thatch on the verge of being humiliated.

"A bit paranoid, I dare say," the Potions Master continued, as he did not notice Malfoy's almost exhilarated demeanour. "Word has, poor Bernard had a few problems with some Pyramid Keepers while breaking into one of the tombs. Surely it couldn't have been less than five years, but the poor man hasn't overcome the trauma yet..." The older man glanced around at his elite group, eager to share more gossip with the curious students who glared at him and Helga expectantly.

"Apparently the old Pyramid Keepers are among the most wise of the ancient priests. Also still highly mischievous, but -" he paused and winked at Helga "- of course Miss Thatch already knew that, being the expert inAncient Runes and Egyptian History that she his."

_«Merlin, you're killing me!»_

"Erm, thanks Professor." Helga managed to smile shyly as the rest of the lot shot her a few regular amused glances and Slughorn smiled broadly at her.

"It is true indeed. He did not... act like himself after that sad incident..." She spoke slowly and quietly, still uncomfortable with all the attention so unwillingly obtained.

"But I do not consider him less than sane." Malfoy turned a loud snort into a cough. On the other hand, Slughorn, who for some reason seemed to ignore Malfoy's sudden outburst, raised one of his massive eyebrows in utter disbelief as Helga's features turned crimson.

Tom Riddle glanced at Slughorn. He had no interest in the conversation but after years of close observation rather than an impulsive participation, he decided that at this exact stage of his life appearances were everything. A carefully calculated expression of mild curiosity was his façade; the current one, at least. Needless to say the meeting bored him completely, just as every time Slughorn introduced another member of his "VIP" Club.

Riddle's eyes switched from Slughorn to Helga as he considered her cautiously, knowing who she was, just like he knew everyone in his House, maybe even in the entire school. Of course Tom did not show it for he knew that old fool Albus Dumbledore kept a close watch on him. _«An annoyingly close watch...»,_ Tom thought as a carefully controlled rage ran through him.

_«The old fool!»,_ he kept repeating in his mind as if hate was to save him from the tedious conversation Thatch and Slughorn were having. Alas, the Potions Master must have noticed Tom's hazy expression and decided to end his enlightening debate with Helga once and for all, gesturing politely to her. Most of those present glanced at Riddle with high admiration, for their Head Boy had to be one of the smartest students of all times, apart from being extremely handsome and charming.

"Tom, is everything alright? You seem far away." Slughorn presented him with a fatherly smile. Riddle immediately came to his senses, his calm and logical manner taking over his demeanour.

"Everything is fine, sir. There's no need to be concerned," Riddle said in his charming voice. "Although I am so very sorry to be the cause of the interruption of your and Miss Thatch's highly interesting conversation." Tom gave a curt nod to Helga who stared at him blankly, still slightly blushed. "But something crossed my mind."

Satisfied with the opportunity to focus his attention on his favourite student, the Potions Master seized that chance at once.

"Do tell m'boy. What's on your mind?" Riddle's expression turned solemn.

"I merely recalled that there have been reports on the Dark Wizard Grindelwald during the summer..." He paused for a second, "Reports that say he is preparing to attack Britain soon." Some of those present gasped, "My concern is, does anyone know exactly where?" The pale young man's expression showed extreme and very alarmed concern, which Slughorn took as an opportunity to show all Tom Riddle's humility, intelligence, grandeur, charisma, ambition, power...

Helga was bored to death with all that utterly ridiculous conversation. Of course knowing where Grindelwald was about to attack next concerned her, but the prior events had exhausted her completely. Not only she did not want to hear all about "Tom Riddle's Greatest Achievements All Through the Years List", nor did she want to spend another minute in the company of those despicable people.

_«Amazing how some people can be so pathetic...»_

Riddle's eyes flickered towards Helga momentary as if in less than a second he had heard her deepest thoughts. Or was it all her imagination? Helga recoiled slightly and spent the rest of the short journey patting her cat, immersed in her own thoughts.

Slughorn was so absorbed in Tom that he did not recall that they had almost reached their destination. Emma Hamilton who had been checking her golden watch from time to time, called him shyly, taken aback by Riddle's penetrating gaze.

"Sir," she called, "we'll be arriving in seven minutes." Slughorn's eyes widened in surprise as he gave a short laugh.

"By Merlin's beard, time flies when you're in such good company!" Tom merely smiled, like all the others. "You should go back to your compartments. Thank you for joining me." The professor paused. "Have fun at the feast!"

The lot waved their polite goodbyes and left the compartment in a rush, following their separate ways throughout the large train. Helga seized her cat and walked as fast as she could to her compartment in the vain hope that the wolf whistles from Malfoy and Nott would eventually go unheard.

As she opened her compartment door, Helga noticed everything was just as she left it to be. Apart from her belongings, the same numbness, a regular customer to an empty heart crawled under her skin to prevent her from feeling anything at all. Although sadness would usually hold hand with numbness it did not come to her in that moment, for it prepared to strike another time instead. Not feeling at all could be freeing at a point, so why did she start to feel sorrow as soon as she entered the first empty carriage?

Helga tried to hold all the saddening feelings or thoughts away; she knew she could stop the pain if her mind and soul were willing to help her out. Fighting and struggling against herself to appear as normal as possible, her head turned upwards towards the striking castle. Its exterior was magnificent as ever, the moonlight illuminated the hard stone walls in such a beautiful manner that it seemed to emit a pearly glow. The autumn wind caressed them. The fields were dark and gloomy at night, but Helga had no intention in visiting them during such late and obscure hours.

A small meow came from the creature she embraced, begging to be released as they arrived to the castle. Needless to say the cat knew his own way to her room along with the whole baggage. Helga understood his soft plea and gave him a chance to be free and sneak into the kitchens before dinner, as she stood among the Slytherin students, waiting to come in the Great Hall where a sumptuous welcome feast surely awaited her after the usual first years sorting. The girl stopped as the other students passed next to her and gazed at the ceiling, wishing that it could show her the night sky.

The stars shone as small pearls outside the castle. Even though Helga did not believe such superstitions, if she had seen a shooting star then she would have made a wish. What can you wish upon a star?

* * *

_To my first reviewers; thank you so much for reading my fic and for the wonderful reviews you left me. You made my day : )_

_slytherin-principessa - my amazing beta-reader! What would I ever do without you? This chapter is entirely dedicated to you and only you. Because you rock the whole world : )_

_Bius - My loathed little Bio :P Thanks for reviewing! And don't worry, our fan-fiction will be posted as soon as our tests end. Those little nasty creeps thought they could drown us with school work! But they can't! We will rise again! And again. _

_Dark Angel - Thanks for reading!_

_Mr. SupahKewl - Your reviews are always appreciated my dear friend ; )_

_9shadowcat9 - Hehe, thank you so much! I think I corrected that little thoughts/speeches thing. If it's still wrong and completely far from the human mind, then do tell me :)_

_Lolindir Elanesse - You could expect a crappy story per example xD Apart from everything you told me when you were reading the chapter, I think this one turned out pretty well. And I'm very happy with it._

_This chapter was entirely dedicated to my beta-reader slytherin-principessa who helped me and gave me strength and courage to post yet another chapter! _

_As for those who reviewed my first chapter, thank you so much for enlarging my ego._

Will **YOU** read and review?


	3. The Noble House of Salazar Slytherin

_**"The Noble House of Salazar Slytherin"**_

* * *

Sounds of laughter reverberated through the Great Hall, producing an amused aura in the corners of the student filled room. At each one of the four tables someone indubitably tried to impress his friends by performing a new spell learnt in secret during the summer, or with the latest prank**. **On the other hand, there were those, who were listening attentively to the person next to them, but did not dare to join the conversation.

All of this can be considered usual. After all, when several people get together, there will always be a few trying to show off. The remaining, or at least most of them, will always try to benefit from the situation. It's the human nature.

Even so, there are those, who refrain from paying any attention to what is going on around them. It's more common than it seems.

One of those people was Helga Thatch, who was staring at the enchanted ceiling, which revealed the moon and the shining sky. She thought that maybe there existed small spaces for rats on the moon. _«__Might__ if it was made of cheese...»_ she thought with an ironic smile, imagining a war between mice armed only with wands, trying to conquer a piece of ragged cheese.

Helga started abruptly on her seat when she became aware that the Headmaster had risen from his seat.

"Damn man..." she grumbled.

Dippet gazed around and smiled at the students, who were looking at him half-heartedly. Talking to a crowd definitely was _not_ his strong point, especially in front of students, youngsters, whose minds were so susceptible to the world around them.

"Damn kids..."he muttered under his long beard so that nobody could hear.

With his bald head shining distinctively under the moonlight, the Headmaster swallowed and glanced nervously at his side to Albus Dumbledore, who gave him a reassuring smile.

"Erm ... welcome." He started in a much louder and sharper voice than it was necessary, while fiddling with his wand anxiously. Some students exchanged glances.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, new students! As for the old ones, welcome back!" He tried to appear to be beaming with fake joy, but his little performance was ruined by that brainless wand falling right out of his hands. His smile transformed into a grimace.

Armando bent to seize the artifact, his features red from embarrassment and his old hands shaking. However, when he got to his feet he appeared to be calmer.

He directed something that was everything but a beaming smile at both the student body and the staff, Dippet straightened his back and put himself together quickly. _Too quickly. _

"Well ... where was I?" He gazed at Dumbledore who raised a hand, silencing the room immediately. Armando turned around once more, his stare steady and firm.

"As I was saying, welcome! You must be starving, so help yourselves!"

With a sweeping gesture from the Headmaster, the food appeared on the tables and an explosion of enthusiastic applause flooded the Hall as the Man-in-Charge waved fearfully at the sudden outburst and headed to his seat, quite puzzled. Albus Dumbledore quickly got absorbed in a profound conversation with the old man, his ginger beard seemed curiously observed by the cold moon.

The noise inside the Great Hall was rising, the sound of conversation and laughter echoed freely and happily. Ghosts displayed several acrobatics to entertain their respective students -The Bloody Baron was engaged in a fierce duel against Nearly-Headless-Nick right above the Slytherin table, where he could count on the support of his students.

When a tie was declared, whistles ruined the Hall's splendid atmosphere, only to be joined by the Gryffindors' jeering laughter.

Several minutes later the noise began to die down, as the students finished their meals. The teachers treasured the moment to observe their old and new apprentices, who in turn pretended that no one was watching them.

Well, that's not true. If we exclude those, who were talking and not paying attention, plus others who were either still finishing their meals or falling asleep on the table, (or at least dangerously close to bang their heads on the hard wood) the remaining were happily smiling and waving to their teachers. _Amongst__ other things. _

Helga had finished her meal long ago, and was comfortably full.

She sighed, bored with having nothing to do until the end of the feast. Slightly drowsy, she checked the time impatiently. Looking up at the head table briefly, something caught her eye. Professor Merrythought was coughing, while Slughorn spoke to her with his mouth full. Helga smiled kindly.

Suddenly she caught a glimpse of Dumbledore in the centre of the table, winking in her direction.

Sensing it must have been aimed at her; she blushed and turned her attention back to her plate that immediately disappeared, leaving an empty space. Either that or the House Elves were trying to revolutionize table service. _Theories. _

Helga hadn't noticed that the Headmaster had risen from his seat once again, so her thoughts wandered to the moon one more time. This is, _literally_ speaking.

Alas, she did not go too far. The now thick and thundering voice of said mister awoke Helga from a much desired sleep, leaving momentary dizziness in her being.

"I begin by telling you, first years, that ..." The mouth moved, but Helga was no longer listening. Strangely tired, she closed her eyes for a second and saw herself wandering once again through the free memory that only the mind can contain.

_She was six years old and her grandmother had just given her a chocolate, when... _

"Thatch!" Helga woke up abruptly from her light sleep and noticed to be almost falling off the bench.

"What?!" she hissed edgily to one of her roommates.

"You were almost falling off the bench!" the other girl huffed. "_Git._.."

"Hum. Yes." She noticed that most of the others at the Table weren't looking her way. She pretended to pay attention to Dippet's speech. Apparently Dippet was still warning the students about what couldn't be brought to the school, under the penalty of being confiscated.

_«Has he not noticed yet that absolutely no one cares about this? They'll just bring everything anyway...»_ she thought, annoyed for listening to the same thing again and again, every year.

"And lastly, I want to inform you that due to..." He hesitated. "...due to sudden illness, our beloved Head Librarian, Madam Pince, will be on sick leave for at least six months, if not more." A massive round of applause erupted from the four tables with such intensity, that the ceiling seemed to be at the verge of falling down.

Dumbledore chuckled softly along with some of the teachers, who did not show any embarrassment in admitting to be genuinely happy with the news.

Helga hit her forehead in anguish. Now who would show her all the books about hieroglyphs? Surely she didn't like the old vulture, but the woman was a precious help! How was she going to, how was she...

_«Wait a minute, Dippet may be dumb, but he wouldn't leave Hogwarts without a librarian or an accessible__ library! ...or would he? »_ She relished the thought as slowly as she glanced upwards to the Head table.

Dippet swallowed hard. "Yes, well, surely we're all very ...well." He blinked several times until realizing the absurdity of the whole situation. "The problem is: we didn't find anyone even the least interested for the position of Head Librarian at Hogwarts," he admitted, slightly discomposed.

"For that reason, until we find someone _willing_ to accept said place," he grunted sarcastically, "the position of Head Librarian will be assigned to a member of the staff for an indefinite period of time." Dippet made a small pause, in which silenced lingered suddenly. "You may go to bed."

All of a sudden everyone decided to move in a complete bustle to their respective common rooms. While the Head Boy and Head Girl elucidated the various Prefects about the new passwords, the teachers also rose from their seats and headed to their offices.

Dumbledore expected that every single person (with the obvious exception of himself and the Headmaster) had left the Great Hall, so he could address the latter with open arms and a broad smile gracing his lips.

"Another year has started," he said gently, as if they were two friends having a drink, after years of sending Christmas Cards and small, meaningless presents. "I do wonder about the upcoming events."

Even though Dippet knew exactly that those words were meant as an encouragement, they somehow only discouraged him even more. He couldn't suppress a little sigh.

"Can't be worse than last year." Dumbledore gazed at the starry sky and agreed gloomily.

* * *

Helga was bored. In fact, she was bored and extremely drowsy, which wasn't in any way a pleasant combination.

After leaving the Great Hall, she headed to the cold and dimly lit dungeons along with her House mates, where Tom Riddle, this year's chosen Head Boy expected the uneasy Slytherins. He smiled charmingly at the first years and announced the password, which was, curiously enough, _'Parseltongue'_.

Helga practically stumbled into the sumptuously decorated room, wickedly pushed by none other than Abraxas Malfoy, who during dinner insisted on recounting Helga's fantastic Odyssey from the door to the chair.

"It's not even _why_ she fell," he told Lucretia Black who was laughing manically, "but _how_ she fell!" The bloke thought for a moment and added: "Although the _why_ in this case is also hilariously pathetic. You see..."

Needless to say Helga felt greatly embarrassed, though Ready-to-hex-into-oblivion-whoever-dared-to-speak-again-about-said-matter-during-the-next-twenty-years was a more correct evaluation of the situation.

Despite everything, Helga straightened her back and marched to the nearest couch, where she sat still with all the dignity she could muster. Mustering that dignity wasn't exactly an easy task for a person who started her very first school day by hearing low insults. _«Yes, because at least they could've mentioned that my left eye is in fact larger than my right one. That would be original, in the least. »_ She thought about it for a while and concluded: _«Best not to give them any ideas. »_

She examined the remaining members of her House and asked herself why in Merlin's saggy pants had she sat next to people with whom she didn't even talk, instead of climbing to her dormitory, where surely a comfortable bed, cat and pyjamas were expecting her arrival.

Helga glared straight at the sixth year boy sitting next to her, who in return glared back into her eyes, menacingly. Feeling herself blush a deep crimson, Helga opted to avert her gaze, locking both eyes at the greenish ceiling, as if expecting it to fall miraculously. After a while, she turned her head slowly and fixated her stare at the tall figure standing in front of the staircase that lead to the dormitories.

Suddenly she realized that every single Slytherin had placed himself and herself in the couch area, facing their Head Boy. What the latter was about to do didn't even cross Helga's mind, but she was sure of one thing: she didn't want to know.

Well, seeing the facts and thinking logically, Helga was extremely curious to know what was about to happen. However, she was too tired to admit it. It's true she had heard the famous saying _'Curiosity killed the cat'_ before, but as far as she was concerned, Helga thought it must had been a singularly stupid gifted feline.

Excited whispers travelled through the common room like a surreal electricity wave through an iceberg, leaving all those present with their hair standing on end. Tom Riddle cleared his throat softly and a heavy silence fell upon the Slytherin Common Room. He smiled.

"Good evening to all," he started "and welcome to the Noble House of Salazar Slytherin, by far the best House in Hogwarts."

He slowly and authoritatively ran his eyes over the others, who gathered obediently in front of him, manipulated by his charming smile, which may have been alluring, but lacked warmth.

At some point within his small pause, Riddle seemed to acknowledge deep in his mind that he owned all of the Slytherins' attention, a moment he cherished profoundly.

"I wish to congratulate you, first years, for being sorted into our beloved and dearest House." He proceeded calmly. "My name is Tom Riddle and I am Head Boy, which means that any sort of complaint or problem shall immediately be directed to me."

Some of the first years dared to look at him in the eye, which Tom answered with a penetrating gaze for a few moments. Afterwards, he smiled and turned to speak at them once again.

"As it has been explained before, your House will be like a family to you for the next seven years; you will be rewarded and congratulated in case you win points and, in case you lose them..." His face darkened suddenly, gleaming red eyes sparkled, but those who did see such a terrorizing thing either assumed it must've been due to the burning fire behind or it was simply the product of an hyperactive imagination. Some couldn't help but shudder, though.

"Let's say you'll have to settle accounts with _Me_." He smiled maliciously. "Keep in mind that if you do your very best, there won't be any problems."

Riddle tilted his wand carefully between his long fingers, such hypnotizing movements that demanded authority above everything else. His handsome eyes lingered for no more than two seconds on the small first year standing right in front of him. The little boy shuddered.

The Slytherin Head Boy straightened to his full height, towering over the little children and raised a magnificently long wand above his head, his eyes irradiating well-balanced, deep concentration while performing some mysterious spell, which only he knew. Slowly, a giant silver and greenish snake erupted from Riddle's wand, as deadly as a viper, ready to strike its prey.

Whispers and exclamations of pure awe flooded the now unnaturally misty room, as it ran through the air like a herd of wild horses berserk with excitement. Every single soul appeared to be bewitched with the magnificent and terrifying giant snake, including Helga.

Riddle glared penetratingly at each and every one of the Slytherins, silencing the background noise almost instantaneously. A feeling of sudden warmth embraced their souls; a new sense of purpose needed to be accomplished and felt lingering in their uneasy hearts.

"You are witches and wizards, not ordinary muggles. Furthermore, you're part of the Noble House of Slytherin; the place where all the great and powerful minds lie." His eyes resembled mysterious dark orbs, strangely driven mad by the greenish mist, which overflowed the cold room.

"Some will tell you this House has produced more dark wizards than any other. Those people will also be the ones, who from now on will leer at you; they shall look down upon all of you, _disdainfully_ even." Riddle proceeded, pacing serenely although there was no mistake in the anger felt in his voice. The massive snake hovered in the dense mist above his head.

"One day they shall regret their actions." He stopped again, calmness radiating from him, though an unmistakable fury lurked behind those dark orbs. "Many will tell you that thirst for power and wealth corrupts the masses. Only braggarts and fools like the Gryffindors shall tell you such lies and obscenities regarding Good and Evil."

Everyone listened attentively to his carefully chosen words, for the simple thought of not listening abhorred and disgusted their being. But no, they couldn't think. At least not now that Tom Riddle spoke the _truth_.

Eyeing them intently, the Head Boy proceeded in his smooth, yet hypnotizing voice. "They are all fools, oblivious to the one and true reality. Stupidity is the reason for mass corruption and as for Good and Evil -" his smile widened evilly, a wicked expression on his features, "- they do not exist. There's only power and those who are too weak to seek it, much less bear."

Glares of admiration followed the Head Boy. The snake hovered near him, as a loyal pet, only true to its master. "Therefore if you are caught in any kind of mischief they will undeniably be the first ones to rat you out and as such, you will most likely be deprived of what we can call 'a fair trial'."

Some of the elder students agreed darkly, nodding and sneering as he spoke. "In that case don't be stupid, do everything within your reach so the situation profits both you and everyone else in Slytherin." His eyes sparkled. "I will _not _tolerate that." Riddle put on his most serious demeanour, increasing the power that was already within his grasp.

"You have been warned."

Riddle paused to merely appreciate the atmosphere of awe he had created, and obsolete environment of the purest and most transparent feelings of such young minds for him to control and manipulate! Excitement ran through his veins, though he did not dare to let it free. He forced himself to control his actions in that crucial moment, for he was indeed a patient man.

The Head Boy raised his wand once again and with a sudden freezing sensation in the space-time continuum, the massive greenish snake was sucked long with the eerie mist into the tip of his wand, a spiral of both magical dust and silver fire making their last appearance in the common room.

It is said that the opposite of noise is silence. It's not true. Silence is only the absence of noise. Silence would have been a terrible crash compared to the sudden and soft implosion of non-noise that hit the Slytherin common room with the impact of the explosion of an Erumpet horn.

The young witches and wizards were still so impressed that even with the uncomfortable tingling in their ears gone, it took them a couple of seconds to gather themselves. Riddle merely observed those in front of him with well-mannered curiosity and a blank face, as if he was expecting nothing.

The few, who managed to put themselves together, suddenly rose from their seats and applauded their Head Boy in awe and ill-mannered excitement, to which others quickly joined with a row of whistles and approving thunderous applauses that could have destroyed the school's foundations.

Glances and stares of admiration towards their Lord were seen everywhere; though Helga had a small cynical smile gracing her lips, merely joining the rest of her House in the praise pandemonium only not be the one and single person who in fact was not applauding Tom Riddle. She was too drowsy to care about anything at all.

As he gave a small bow and a curt nod, a small smile lingering on his lips, wolf whistles followed him up the staircase.

Helga winced but nobody noticed that or how happy she was feeling to see the dark haired boy climbing up the stairs to his Head Dorm. _They_ now had permission to leave to their dormitories. In fact, footsteps echoed through the common room, which was Helga's chance to hurry back to her own dorm, an opportunity she took gladly.

Helga closed the door in a rush. She sighed deeply and headed towards her bed, where a huge cat was expecting her, beaming in anticipation. The girl asked herself if it had been waiting for something.

"Yes?" she inquired, desperate to see that Lewis wouldn't let her get to bed. Her only answer was a stare of penetrating disapproval.

"I don't get it." She said, after a small silence between them both. Various girls had already entered the dormitory.

With what would be equal to a sigh and a slight shrug, Lewis jumped on the floor while his mistress put on her pyjamas.

Hours later, Helga was sleeping peacefully in her bed, her head resting on the soft sheets covering the comfortable mattress, while her cat was sleeping on the pillow. They were both dreaming of things that others would call delusional attempts to a better reality, not knowing or perhaps even ignoring that the best place to dare is inside one's mind.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter and please, if you have any question at all or just wish to tell me how good/bad you thought of this/other chapter(s) then do it; I prefer knowing your opinion than to stay an ignorant moron forever. _

_Special thanks to my beta reader, B B, who puts up with me every single day :D She rocks the world! _

_This chapter is dedicated to Diogo (Lolindir Elanesse), who suggested that Tom Riddle could offer shrimp rissols to the Death Eaters. Who else but you to make me laugh?_

_I hope you had a good reading_


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